The Routine
by Wonderrland
Summary: AU - Modern/University. Enjolras and Grantaire have a routine every Friday. Enjolras will write his papers while Grantaire will go out, get drunk and turn up at Enjolras' flat early in the morning incredibly trashed. (ExR/EnjolrasxGrantaire).


**A/N: So this is my first Les Mis fic, so sorry if they're a little OOC. But then again, it is an AU so they're allowed to be a lil bit. I'd appreciate feedback. Enjoy! xxx**

* * *

**The Routine:**

**From Grantaire(19:54):** Hey, are you busy?

_Yes, you know I am._

**From Grantaire(19:59): **Enji! You dead or something?

Enjolras sighed, throwing his phone down on his desk and running a hand through his hair, his fingers getting caught in some of the curls and frustrating him just that tiny bit more. He was already on edge, he had a paper to write and yes, he was expecting Grantaire to bother him because he always does ... but he had kind of been hoping, - he realised how stupid this was considering it would involve Grantaire caring about something other than getting wasted on a Friday night, - that he wouldn't. Not tonight. Not after every time Grantaire had asked him what he was doing that night he had told him that he would be writing a paper for his Political Science class, how important it was that he spent as much time on it as possible, without any interruptions. That he would be spending the entire night working.

But of course, that's not how his friend worked and if he had been adamant not to reply to Grantaire's texts before, his resolve was renewed by the use of that insufferable nickname that he knew Enjolras loathed.

**From Grantaire(20:02):** Are you ignoring me?

**From Grantaire(20:03): **Enji?

**From Grantaire(20:04):** ENJI!

**From Grantaire(20:06): **What's up? Why are you ignoring me? Have I ... done something wrong?

_You're doing something wrong right now_, Enjolras thought as he read the text, _and you bloody well know it._ He wanted to text this back but he had promised himself that tonight, he would not play in Grantaire's silly little games. Why he was even reading the texts anyway was beyond him. He could have just put his phone on silent, or switched it off and ignored him that way. But he didn't. And for some reason he wasn't going to.

_I never put my phone on silent that's why_, he argued internally. _And I never turn it off either if I can help it_, he reminded himself. Which was true, if there was an emergency that he was needed for he wanted people to be able to contact him without hassle.

He was about to get back to scanning through his class notes from the latest block they were studying, and what the paper was supposed to be on when another message came through.

**From Grantaire(20:11):** Oh God! I have done something wrong haven't I? I'm really sorry but I can't remember what it was so forgive me. Also, I promise I'm not drunk. I just really really can't remember what I did to piss you off. Knowing your temperament though I bet it wasn't something half as bad at you're making it out to be. So tell me!

Enjolras threw down the pen he had picked up, it skid across the desktop and fell to the floor. Fuck. He really wasn't in the mood for this tonight. And yes, Grantaire was right, tonight his temperament had practically gone out the window because he was even pissed off at his pen for flying off on him like that and that was saying something.

**From Grantaire(20:13):** Please?

_No_.

**From Grantaire(20:14):** Come on.

_No_.

**From Grantaire(20:14):** Tell me and then I'll leave you alone.

_How dense are you? _He was really beginning to wonder how much Grantaire actually listened when Enjolras told him things.

He didn't want to be right but he was betting on how he was acting, it probably wasn't much.

**From Grantaire(20:15):** Scouts honor?

_Really_? He didn't not snort at that.

**From Grantaire(20:15):** Pinky swear?

He almost facepalms at that. _Oh God. _What was he: twelve? Considering how he sometimes acted ... he could be onto something there.

**From Grantaire(20:16): **Sell my soul to you?

_Oh bloody hell._

**From Grantaire(20:16):** I would y'know.

He goggled at the screen. _Jesus Christ. No. _He really wouldn't put it past him to actually try that just to get someone's attention.

**From Grantaire(20:16):** No?

_No_.

**From Grantaire(20:17):** Well fine, have it your way then. I'll just come over ...

**To Grantaire(20:17):** NO!

Two more texts and three attempted phone calls later and Enjolras was at the end of his tether. He did realise he could make this all go away by breaking his stupid phone rules for one little night but he didn't and now he was lying on his bed, his work left untouched on his desk because really, he wasn't going to get anything done until Grantaire shut the hell up. He was laying on his back, arms thrown over his eyes and his mobile clutched in one hand.

When it rang again he groaned obscenely loudly in frustration and sat up in a shot, pressed the answer button, brought the phone to his ear and growled out: "_Do you have the memory capacity of a gold fish_?" down the phone all in one swift coursing movement.

"Well," came Grantaire's too happy voice down the phone, - he shouldn't be allowed to be happy when he was annoying Enjolras, "it's nice to hear your voice too, Enji. How you doing?"

Enjolras' free hand clenched into a fist in the bed sheet. No one should be able to rile him up so much. "_Don't call me that_," he ground out, almost hissing down the phone at him.

Grantaire laughed and Enjolras could see his throwing his head back and shaking it lightly as his laughter died down. "Now that's a lie and you know it."

"No, it's the truth and I've told you many times before to stop so obviously I need to repeat my earlier statement."

"What earlier statement?" Grantaire asked and Enjolras had to suppress the growl that was threatening to slip out at any moment. He was sure his friend acted like this on purpose just to grate on him.

Enjolras sighed down the phone, "Never mind," he said, trying his best to dismiss the matter before he said something he'd half-regret in the morning. "What do you want?" he asked in a more conversational tone, even if he already knew the answer because this happened almost every Friday night and it probably wasn't ever going to stop. Not until Grantaire grew up anyway and that would be something short of a miracle.

"It's fine," Grantaire replied and Enjolras heard someone laughing in the background. He was already out then. "You gonna come out with us tonight?"

He sighed, long and pointedly. Rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand which was no longer fisted in the sheets, he replied: "No. I can't. You know this because I told you this morning."

"Oh yeah, of course. Right. Sorry."

"It's fine."

"No it's not," Grantaire insisted. "I was stupid, I forgot and I shouldn't have. Especially if you told me _this morning_." Enjolras couldn't exactly deny _that _so instead he didn't say anything. "Forgive me, yeah?"

Enjolras smiled lightly as he replied, "Yeah."

"Good," said Grantaire happily once more. "See you tomorrow then if you're free."

_No, I'll see you later tonight. As per usual on a Friday night,_ Enjolras wanted to say but he didn't because if he did it would only embarrass them both and there was no point in that.

"Of course. Bye, Grantaire. Have fun tonight."

"Bye Enji!" Grantaire shouted down the phone and hung up before Enjolras could once again protest the nickname.

* * *

By the time he was off the phone it was around quarter to nine and if routine was anything to go by, Enjolras had around about until between one and two in the morning before he was bombarded by a very drunken Grantaire at his door insisting admission into his apartment.

So if he said one, he could get just over four hours work done if he started right now and didn't stop. He wouldn't have any more interruptions, his other friends knew not to bother him and so they wouldn't. And Grantaire was done bothering him for now and so the only way he would not work was if he deterred himself.

This paper was important though and would result in a very important grade in his course. So he made sure everything he needed was on his desk, picked up the pen from the floor, threw his phone under his pillow for good measure and made himself a flask of coffee to keep him awake and alert enough to get through the night.

* * *

True to their routine, Grantaire started banging on his door at just past one in the morning, Enjolras had done most of his paper, or the first draft of it anyway and so he immediately got up and went to answer it, not wanting a repeat of last week when Grantaire was making so much noise he woke a tenant down the hall who was less than pleased and a hell of a lot bigger than both Enjolras and the drunken letch combined.

Threw open the door and Grantaire, who had supposedly been leaning on it fell forward into Enjolras. Luckily he was able to shake off the initial shock before Grantaire's weight knocked them to the floor and was able to get his footing back and hold his friend up too.

Grantaire held onto him for dear life. "Enji Benji!" he sang as he wrapped his arms around Enjolras' neck and forcefully hung his head into his chest.

Fuck that nickname and fuck children's TV.

"Geez," griped Enjolras as he only just managed to stretch one hand far enough to push the door shut with the tip of his fingers, "how drunk are you?" He could smell the alcohol on his breath even though his face was buried in his t-shirt.

"As drunk," Grantaire replied, trying to push his head even further into Enjolras' chest, "as a skunk!"

"Right an-"

"-Which I really don't understand, En," interrupted Grantaire before Enjolras could ask how much he had had.

En, though. Not that nice sounding, but better than Enji. He could get used to it. Though he'd much prefer if Grantaire would just use his full name.

His friends head snapped up into view for the first time tonight and he looked absolutely fucked. His black hair was sticking to a slightly sweaty forehead, his eyes were a little bloodshot and looked dog tired, his lips were a little chapped and he was paler than usual.

That was why Enjolras didn't like to drink all that much. Why would you want to look and feel that bad? "I don't understand it, En," Grantaire repeated again and he really looked lost as he spoke, looking into Enjolras' eyes as if they held the answer he was looking for. Which they might have, if Enjolras actually had any idea what his friend was going on about.

His confusion wasn't to last long however because Grantaire carried on with his drunken musings. "How can someone be as drunk as a skunk? I mean ... skunks don't drink do they?" His brow furrowed and he really looked like he was trying to figure that out. Enjolras would have laughed if it weren't so tragic. He was about to speak again when Grantaire's expressed changed from intense pensive to complete and utter amazement, an epiphany mixed with a slight pinch of terror. "_What the fuck even is a skunk? Are they real, En?"_

Enjolras did laugh at that. "Oh, Grantaire, how much did you have to drink?"

"Everything," he answered, tilting his head back and smirking before adding in a sing-song voice: "Everything but you!"

Oh, so the careless flirting had started earlier today. _Great_.

The flirting didn't bother him. Well it did. But for different reasons than one would most expect. He liked Grantaire, a lot actually, sometimes he thought more than the man deserved with the way he would act but it was the truth. Enjolras liked Grantaire, maybe more than a friend should. And so when Grantaire flirted, he couldn't help but feel a little happy, and his heart that sped up every time his friend leaned in a little too close, had to agree.

But here was the thing: Grantaire only flirted when he was drunk. When he would wake up the next morning he wouldn't remember what had happened the night before, or so he said. Enjolras was never suspicious of the memory loss though, Grantaire drank a lot and despite his high tolerance for alcohol, he would nearly always out-do himself.

He didn't know whether Grantaire's drunken flirting was because he actually desired Enjolras secretly and these were the only times he was brave enough to allude to it, or it he was just wrecked and didn't realise what he was doing. Either way, Enjolras wanted to hear the explanation when his friend was sober and sober only. And when his friend brought the topic up, if he ever did. Until then, Enjolras was going to keep his mouth shut.

He didn't have any qualms with just staying friends with Grantaire, they were close, even though he could drive him up the wall and he would like to stay that way. He never really though of Grantaire in any way other than a friend except on Friday nights/Saturday mornings.

Grantaire was still smirking devilishly at him when his head fell straight back onto Enjolras' chest harshly, with a resounding thud echoing through his chest. Enjolras sighed and tugged him closer and put his arms around his waist, making it easier for him to draw his friend over to the bed.

He plonked him down, rather ungracefully because Grantaire was being no help at all even though he was perfectly conscious, onto his bed and sat down next to him.

Grantaire was lying down, his jeans were a little dirty Enjolras saw as he looked him over, he hadn't been wearing a coat, which was stupid because it was November in Britain, and his deep green t-shirt had ridden half-way up his chest when he had fallen, leaving a plane of bare skin that Enjolras tried very hard not to stare at.

Which was hard because despite not being all that muscly, like himself, Grantaire was still toned from what he would see and his fingers itched at the suppressed urge to run them along Grantaire's chest and feel the muscles twitch beneath them.

"You're wearing pajama's," Grantaire piped up after a couple of silent minutes, pulling Enjolras out of his growing daydream and dragging his gaze from his friends chest up to his friends brown eyes. He hoped that Grantaire hadn't noticed his staring, he wasn't in the mood for that type of conversation with him, especially with him being in this state. Luckily, however, where Grantaire was now leaning up on his elbows, in his drunken state he was far too concerned with Enjolras' wardrobe choice to notice anything else at one time.

"Yes," he replied, looking down at his clothing hesitantly, wondering what exactly his point would be, "it is one in the morning, Grantaire. If anyone's dressed incorrectly it's you."

He flipped his head to the side, his dark curls flopping down by gravity. "Hmm ..." He pursed his lips but because he wasn't exactly sober his pout was more of a show of his gums. "Maybe you should help me out of it then," he mused aloud, cocking one eyebrow at Enjolras, his eyes glittering at the prospect.

He choked on air and for some reason his friend seemed to see that as invitation to lunge forward and kiss him.

It wasn't nice. It was drunken and wet and just overall entirely unpleasant, and Enjolras didn't return the favour. Instead he grabbed Grantaire's shoulders and roughly shoved him back a few inches and told him 'no'. Grantaire frowned and tried his best to put on a puppy dog face, which would have probably worked if Enjolras wasn't one to stick to his convictions.

"No," he repeated firmly and Grantaire almost looked hurt. But he couldn't think about that right now so he pushed his friend down to lie back on the bed again. "Sleep," he commanded him when he was about to protest, "you need to sleep, Grantaire. No exceptions."

He held his gaze for a few moments, not backing down, before Grantaire finally gave a sharp nod of the head and closed his eyes, not bothering to get under the covers or anything.

Enjolras sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Normally he would show up here, flirt a little, act like a child with a secret on a sugar rush before he wore himself out and collapsed on the floor. Why did he have to kiss him? Why did he have to do that? Now it had just made Enjolras even more confused and unsure what to do.

"Lay down, Enny," Grantaire grumbled, his eyes still closed, "you're making me feel uncomfortable. I can't sleep if I'm not comfy."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because _he _was uncomfortable? _Grantaire_?

What in the hell did that make Enjolras then?

His eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment as he drew in a breath and tried to clear his mind. "No," he finally said, voice no more than a whisper, "I'll be fine on the floor. Just sleep."

"I need to be comfortable to sleep," Grantaire whined, wriggling about like a child who doesn't want to sleep just yet and was making excuses like the bed is too lumpy.

"Get comfortable then!"

His friend moaned, deep in his throat and scrunched his eyes tighter together. "I can't because you won't let me!"

Enjolras snorted. "Really? And how am I doing that?"

"You won't sleep with me." Well, fuck. "You won't lie down next to me even when I asked you to. And I need you to otherwise I won't be comfortable. I need you to sleep next to me to feel comfortable."

"Since when?" Enjolras asked because really, he had no idea what the else to say to him.

"Since ... since ... I don't fucking know, ok?" Grantaire breathed vehemently, opening his eyes to glare at Enjolras. "Just, please. Lay down and sleep. It's comfy on your bed, I promise. Just please come to bed. I need you to come to bed. Because you're perfect and if you're with me then I won't have any nightmares because you'll be there and no one will touch me because no one wants to fuck with someone so pretty. Everyone will hate them if they do. That's how it works."

Ok, well drunken rambles were just about the weirdest thing to come out of his friends mouth. And that included all of the cynical shit he sprouted everyday just for the hell of it.

He didn't know what to do. But then Grantaire was looking at him like he'd just dropped his ice cream and this was the only way to make it better.

"Fine," Enjolras relented, "I'll sleep in the bed too. Happy now?"

"Yes," Grantaire replied instantly, an obscene grin on his face. When Enjolras got up to switch off the light he heard the sound of shoes hitting the floor and the ruffle of bed covers behind him. When he returned he slipped in under the blanket beside his friend fumbling under his pillow for his mobile before he lied down properly after placing it on his bedside table.

He shuffled around a bit before he got comfortable, trying not to be too close to Grantaire that it would be weird, and not too far away that he was almost falling off his own bed. He lied on his back, his eyes closed and his body tired but his brain too awake to shut off just yet, and he listened to Grantaire's breathing finally begin to even out, letting him know that his friend had finally fallen asleep.

He wasn't sure if he wanted him to remember in the morning or not.

Probably not.

Not was always best when it came down to these kinds of nights.

* * *

"Urghh!"

"Be quiet, Grantaire," Enjolras grumbled, trying to bury his head into his pillow and shut out the noises his friend was making.

"I feel like shit though," Grantaire moaned, rolling over as he did so to rest his head on Enjolras' back.

He had no sympathy for him. It was his own doing and he told him so, to which his friend mumbled something about the drinks being cheap so it was the pubs fault and not his.

Enjolras laughed lightly and rolled over to face him, scooting a bit more towards the edge of the bed as he did so, so they weren't too close to one another.

"You getting up?" he asked through a stifled yawn. "Or can I go back to sleep?"

"I'm too wrecked to get up at the moment."

"Once again: you're own fault," he chastised lightly. He still didn't see the allure of drinking hevily at all and everything Grantaire did when inebriated just added to the list of why he didn't find it appealing.

Grantaire rolled onto his back, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Don't have to keep reminding me."

"Good," said Enjolras as he closed his eyes again, "at least you know it's your own damn fault. I'm going back to sleep and you can do whatever it is you do when you've got a hangover and no one to help you."

He normally would, he would normally be up by now and giving his friend coffee before kicking him out of his flat.

But he really couldn't be bothered today and besides, Grantaire was a big boy and could fend for himself over one hang-overed morning. It wouldn't kill him.

He put one hand under his head and tried to fall back to sleep, but it was hard knowing Grantaire was just lying there and not doing or saying anything. "Are you going back to sleep?"

"No," his friend replied quietly.

"Then what are you doing?" he asked, his brow knitting together.

A pause. A long pause. A pregnant pause, almost.

When it dragged on too long for Enjolras to expect an answer he mentally shrugged and went back to the task at hand. It was only when he was just about to drift back to his dreams did Grantaire speak again.

"_I did mean it, you know_," he was whispering and Enjolras wasn't entirely sure if he was speaking to him and not for himself to hear. "Enjolras?" he pressed and he knew that he had meant for him to hear it.

Enjolras swallowed thickly but did not open his eyes. "Meant what?" he asked, trying to ignore the way his voice cracked when he spoke.

"You are perfect," Grantaire breathed, "to me."

"Are you still drunk?"

Grantaire chuckled light and free. "No, no I'm not," he said and he sounded as surprised as Enjolras felt. "I'm being perfectly honest."

He didn't know what came over him. He had thought about his reactions to this moment if it were to ever happen. What he had never had expected of him was to burst out laughing and not be able to stop. He was twenty-years-old for Christssake, but he laughed like a ten-year-old. He saw Grantaire look at him with wide, shocked and confused eyes through his tears, he was laughing so hard. He tried to stop, he really did and he kept apologising to Grantaire, telling him that he wasn't laughing at him but at ... well he didn't really know. But it wasn't at him he knew that much.

"Enjolras," Grantaire called, pulling lightly at his wrists to take his hands that were covering his eyes, trying to stop the tears from gushing out, "Enjolras. Enjolras stop laughing or I swear I will call you Enji for the rest of our lives and never your full name again."

That made him stop altogether. He hated that name more than he hated anything in his entire life and he wasn't going to risk that threat any time soon.

"Ok, ok," he said, taking deep breaths to calm himself, "it's alright. I'm alright now. No more laughing. No Enji, either," he added, the scowl he sent at Grantaire was losing its purpose because of the smile breaking out across his fair features.

"Good," his friend replied. He still had hold of his wrists on the bed between them, but he didn't release them and Enjolras didn't mention it. He liked the feel of it.

Grantaire was looking at him straight at him and Enjolras looked right back, not before cataloguing his friends face first though. His pale skin, his thin nose, his pink lips, his dark curly hair and deep brown eyes that were no longer bloodshot but ... beautiful. They were so deep he could get lost in them if he weren't careful.

"You meant it ..." Enjolras spoke first. It wasn't really a question, nor was it really a statement because he wasn't that confident about this yet.

Grantaire did however nod slightly to say 'yes'. Then he said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Enjolras asked bemused, a smile playing at his lips.

His friend sighed and shook his head. "I don't remember most of the nights when I've come here, and when I do remember it's mostly just arriving then nothing. But I do remember last night and if anything I've done all those other times was like then, then I'm sorry."

"So ..." started Enjolras uncertainly, he wanted to take his wrists back but couldn't make his body do the movement. "You do regret it?" he asked, really hoping that that wasn't the case.

Grantaire was practically the polar opposite of Enjolras, but he still wanted him.

Enjolras watched intently, because he could do nothing else, as Grantaire laughed softly. "No," he said, "I don't regret it. I regret not doing it sooner."

"And sober," Enjolras couldn't help but adding in an undertone loud enough for him to hear.

"Yeah, you're right, that too."

Another pause but for Enjolras it was comfortable. Not for his friend though, he friend was still confused.

"You haven't pushed me away," he remarked, looking between them. "Does that mean ..." His voice wavered off before the sentence as finished but Enjolras got the jist of what he was trying to ask.

"Yes," he answered, and leaned forward to lightly brush his lips across Grantaire's.

It was slow and when comparing it to the kiss last night it was a million times better. Enjolras, was timid to say the least. He wanted it, and Grantaire wanted it, but he still didn't rush into. He relished the feel of his friends soft lips against his own and the shiver he got down his spine when Grantaire's breath ghosted over his mouth and lingered with his own. Grantaire pressed forward first lightly, running his thumb up and down Enjolras' wrist soothingly. When he pressed a little deeper, Enjolras pushed forward himself, moving his hands to run up Grantaire's neck to the back of his head and through his hair as he ran his tongue across the crease of his lips and his friend opened up.

Their tongues met immediately, warm and wet and Enjolras moaned into the kiss when Grantier ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth. When his mouth went a little slack at the sensation, Grantaire took the chance to nibble playfully at his bottom lip before running his tongue over it and kissing it apologetically.

He pulled back however before Enjolras went to reciprocate, making the blonde man whine in dissent causing Grantaire to chuckle lightly before rolling Enjolras onto his back and straddling him, leaning his weight on his elbows on either side of Enjolras' head, leaning down to peck him on the lips. Pulling away again at what Enjolras thought was the exact wrong moment.

_Fucking tease_, he thought, even after all they've been through before getting here and he voiced it aloud too.

"Don't worry," he said soothingly as he kissed down Enjolras' neck and biting at his collarbone, causing his hips to buck up reflectively into Grantaire's, pulling a low moan from the both of them. "We have time."

Maybe their routine was good for something after all.


End file.
